Trouble Sleeping
by demitotal disaster
Summary: When you can't sleep, sometimes talking to someone can be a great help. Especially if it allows you to release weight from your shoulders.


Penumbra had never had trouble sleeping. Even with Della's snoring echoing in the room, she had always managed to fall asleep when they lived on the Moon; but now that he had a room in her _uncle's _domains, it was impossible.

She didn't know if it was because of the transition from the Moon to Earth, the weight that gravity installed on her, and she could easily rule out the snoring that somehow was louder because she had gotten used to them, but she just _couldn't._

She tried any position that made her feel more comfortable and even considered kicking the woman out of bed—perhaps the fact that she was so attached to her was the problem; but an awake Della Duck was more problematic than a sleeping Della Duck.

Besides that she could barely move her limbs.

Maybe she could walk the halls. Both Della and Donald had already guided her enough through the mansion that was already unlikely to be lost in them.

Again.

And maybe it allowed her to reduce the amount of energy in her body. She was so used to always being alert and going through Tranquility until the dream dominated her that she saw that as a more feasible hypothesis.

With more effort than was required, she took Della's hands and carefully removed them from her hips, attentive to the duck's grunts until she instantly released her and turned, turning her back and snoring again.

She put a hand on her chest to sigh with relief and withdrew strands of hair that had strained to her face, holding her breath to get out of bed.

In that she was not worried about waking her roommate. She knew she had a heavy enough dream not to wake up to the movement in bed until she was forced to it.

And that she gave a little jump in the bed when she managed to get up didn't seem to wake her up either, so the former lieutenant and captain didn't seem to have anything to worry about either.

She slowly left the room and closed the door again. The lights were completely off, the Moon being the only one that illuminated the halls.

But the truth is that she still didn't get used to the absence of sound. Though it was her gun firing, Della roaming the room rummaging through her things while still chattering, the Moonlanders walking the halls of her home planet, or even her friends' family playing or talking to each other, Penumbra couldn't remember the last time she was surrounded by so much silence.

It was awkward, in a sense. And she found herself involuntarily humming Della's lullaby until she fell silent, feeling the heat rise up her cheeks. Unfortunately, the presence of the Duck family in her life had had more impact on her than she thought, but she would deny that Della's was the one who had the greatest influence as she walked the halls, observing the closed doors of the rooms.

She had not yet memorized in which rooms Donald and the other family members slept, and that each closed door was the same as the other did not help her at all. She really wanted to see if she had someone to talk to so she could sleep.

After all, Della's _children_ and the little duck that always accompanied them seemed really interested in knowing her better as well as her _uncle,_ Della was the one who knew her most and the interactions she had with Donald have been really scarce that currently the only thing he knew about her was that she was friends with his sister.

These thoughts, however, were interrupted when she approached the main staircase, from which she could see a light burning in one of the adjoining rooms and could hear the sound of webbed feet, at which her military instinct appeared. Holding on to the railing, she tiptoed in every rung—fortunately being well secured so that they do not squeak.

That the movement remained at the same level indicated to the alien that she was being silent enough, which really surprised her when her movements were always noisy.

But if someone was really trying to get into the family's territory, they were making a serious mistake, especially if they thought they could go unpunished. Because while she didn't have her ray gun, she still had her fists, and her vast training had made her as powerful as a weapon.

"Stop there!" Ignoring the noise she might cause, she kicked the door. On the other side, Donald started, releasing the fragile ivory cup he held between his wings.

But despite the efforts of the duck, it was Penumbra who managed to catch the object before it touched the ground.

"Hey! What is the big idea?!" and though she showed no signs of understanding him because, in addition, he had murmured, Penumbra acknowledged that he was angry at the abrupt way in which he snatched his cup while recovering his breath "do you want to wake up the children?"

"Um... sorry?" She blinked, watching how a dark, smoky liquid was served. Coffee, or so they called it. She really didn't care.

However, the Moonlander did not perceive the sound of footsteps, so they could easily assume that the rest of the family was still in their lethargy. That served to make Donald sigh, calming down again.

"You can't sleep either, huh?" He took the cup slowly turning it in circles, grinning grimly at his reflection, barely visible, in the black coffee.

Penumbra, despite not fully understanding the duck, could distinguish some words and denied. Despite the absence of light, the former captain was able to perceive the black bags under his narrowed eyes, or the way his nightcap was twisting.

Donald showed no signs of moving except to put the coffee maker in the sink, drinking loudly from the steaming black coffee.

"What are you thinking about?" Penumbra entered the kitchen, leaning on the island while looking at the sailor.

She didn't know if it was about the hour, the adventure that the family had had hours ago, or the recent job that takes up a lot of his nighttime (whatever that was), but she couldn't deny that he looked too exhausted for her taste.

And she could not assure that this exhaustion was only physical.

"Nothing, it's silly..." Donald spoke slowly, dragging the words so that Penumbra could understand him more easily.

The alien blinked. "We have all night" the 'or until the dream defeats us' was implicit, and she knew that the earthling recognized it by the way his gaze barely softened as he took another drink at his coffee.

But Donald knew that it was not healthy for his mental health to suppress his problems, or that is what Jones told him when he began attending his anger management classes. Sure, it had been a few days since the Moonvasion, but that didn't mean his insomnia began.

It had begun since he was discovered that he was a descendant of Don Dugo, the anxiety of not knowing if he would survive facing Felldrake had caused the Caballeros to spend sleepless nights sharing their concerns; it had intensified when he began to see for his nephews even when they were in the shell with fear that they would hatch prematurely, but he had managed to moderate them when the nightmares diminished until his return to the mansion, and his loss on the desert island—

He shook his head and he perceived the stony-skin alien, observing with a severe expression but waiting patiently while trying to articulate his words.

"Have you ever felt... small?" He observed the creamy cup sideways, still perceiving it hot but distilling less smoke.

On the other hand, Penumbra's eyes widened.

"Small?" If she deciphered Donald's words or tried to know what he meant explicitly, she didn't know exactly. Something told her he wasn't being literal.

The duck nodded, leaning on the kitchen island in front of the former lieutenant, stroking the handle of the cup with his fingertip and sniffing the caffeine. That still will not generate an effect on him was already surprising.

"Missing, that you do not belong to a place or… to a group of people?" With uncertainty, he fiddled with his fingers, looking anywhere except in the eyes of his companion.

Even the Moon, having been his prison, looked lovely.

For a moment his voice was more scratchy than usual, and he feared that would make it more unintelligible to Penumbra. He really hated to be so vulnerable, especially to people he was not so familiar with; but despite his strict attitude, Donald saw himself in her.

And he felt he could trust. That is, though Della used to be dumb, she had managed to sympathize and see something that he still didn't.

But if he were attentive to the Moonlander's reactions, he would have perceived her eyes opening in realization after she understood Donald's message even though he had somehow made his voice less understandable.

Her people had been able to empathize with the Earthers as soon as they discovered the true intentions of the General, partly because they were not a warlike society and could not deny it. But she was still in that process.

The gravity, the strange customs of which Della did not speak in her not-so-absurd-anymore stories, the difficulty she had to socialize with people who were not the twins' family, and even talk to _Scrooge _had been complicated because he was always alert despite Della's constant reminder about their friendship.

Honestly, she couldn't blame him. The only Moonlander he interacted with at the time was Lunaris while invading his planet; she couldn't judge that he thought prejudicedly.

She felt that she still had a long way to go to call Earth her new homeworld.

Unless she decided to return to the Moon and command under a new mandate, but the truth eradicated that neither she nor the Moonlanders wanted to remember that for a few moments they were the bad guys.

"Hmm," Donald humming, savoring again the strong essence of black coffee over his heavy eyelids.

It was at that moment that she realized that she thought out loud. But the duck's distant gaze attracted more attention.

"Is that what prevents you from sleeping?" For a moment she wanted to think that it wasn't like that, and that Donald simply wanted to know her more or rather, to bring up a topic of conversation, but he had been too specific with the question that it could not go unnoticed, and that his eyes soften more did nothing but make her lean on the kitchen island next to him, folding her arms on her chest.

The sailor hesitated before sighing heavily, removing his sleeping cap to start fiddling with it and wrinkling it further in the process.

"I really thought they were looking for me, that my warning had really come to them." He spoke slowly, dragging his words so that she could understand him, seeing sideways that she tilted her head without softening her brow. "But the moment I saw my sister and my uncle, they did nothing but scold me because I was supposed to be on the cruise... they didn't even know if I took the bus that would take me."

He constantly moved his arms trying to emphasize his point, and the more he spoke the more he could feel the anger, helplessness and essentially tears threatening to pour out of his eyes, roughly carving them with the sleeve of his shirt.

"They must have their reasons. Don't be so rude to you." Penumbra was perhaps not the best comforting people, she recognized that. She never managed to do it with Della, and she certainly didn't presume to do it with Donald, but she knew she should try when she clumsily put her hand on his shoulder and felt him too tense.

She had seen in the first instance that he was the bravest man in two worlds and that he was not as puny as she had believed.

"I know, maybe I'm being very selfish. But it hasn't let me sleep for whole nights, and I don't think coffee can keep covering that. Since Della came back we have done nothing but venture and every time I get tired faster" he made another sip of his coffee to discover that he had already drunk everything and sighed heavily. "I understand that she wanted to spend time with the boys, I would have voluntarily moved away from being here so she can recover the time lost with them. But what would they not even have thought of calling me, even if they thought I was on the cruise, to tell me that my long lost sister had returned? They know me better than that, they would know that I would left everything to come 'ere."

"And where were you, by the way?" The alien asked after a few seconds of silence, tightening her grip when the sailor tensed even more, if that was possible. He, meanwhile, let out a yawn from his beak for what he believed would be the first time in days.

She accepted not having understood the majority, but some keywords that allowed her to decipher the message. Although she really didn't understand what that croissant he was talking about so much.

"She didn't tell you?" Fantastic. Just fantastic. Donald had muttered under his breath as he rubbed the bridge of his beak, remembering the reprimands of his twin and uncle because he ate with despair as soon as they served dinner, ignoring the grunts of his stomach (the truth was that he was already used to it, while his nephews could eat when they lived with him in the houseboat) and the desire to eat something that was not sand and sea water.

Maybe I should go to that island for a year, he thought sarcastically. Or return to New Quackmore Institute. No one would notice that he left even if he was on the border between Duckburg and St. Canard. Maybe the triplets needed help, and the truth is that he wanted to see what happened to them, Ari, Rug Bear and Xandra after so long.

"I didn't land in Duckburg as I expected, but on a desert island for months. Though I made a new friend, I doubt you can meet him. He died at the hands of my cousin" for moment, he dragged his words more than usual and looked at nothing trying not to concentrate again on the sand in his plumage, the wounds of his body, the constant fights with crabs, the sand and salt water running down his throat. The constant efforts he made in swimming out only to be returned by a wave, send distress signals that, due to his bad luck, were destroyed when airplanes and rescue boats passed, the constant fights with crabs.

And having to hide from the spacecrafts as soon as the invasion began, remembering the blows on his stomach, how he was captured against his will and the small legs of the scorpion entering his shirt and walking on the back of his neck—

Penumbra snapped quickly in front of the lost look of the duck, to which he blinked rapidly.

"I'm sorry." For a moment his gaze was blurred, making him question whether it was the black coffee or the sleep deprivation.

The Moonlander sighed. She didn't know whether to take into account that for a moment Donald's breathing had accelerated, as well as the feeling of inconstant beats in his shoulder blades.

"... And how did you survive?" She couldn't lie, that question was going through her thoughts since she met the twins on the ship, but she had never found the perfect time to do it without disturbing the family, fully aware that they didn't know about it and that he didn't was interested in revealing it.

Finally, she pulled her hand away when he felt the duck's deep breath while he calmed down.

"Honestly? I don't know, my luck never tends to be in my favor" but it had been so ironic that she doubted it was satire.

The bitter expression of the former lieutenant focused on the duck. His limbs were shaking slightly, gripping the ivory cup so tightly that the possibility that he could tear it apart was not minimal, and the prominence of his dark circles made him look... _old_.

"And... why don't you talk to them? They seem to know much more than... me, of these things" she swallowed, pride included, trying not to say that they seemed to understand him better "they could help you."

It was definitely the lack of sleep that made her to say so many silly nonsenses. Yes, that was it.

For its part, the duck had to fight against his willpower not to laugh mockingly, doubting before moving away from the alien to approach the sink and open the tap, carving his eyes as he grunted before beginning to rinse the cup withstanding the cold water.

"Do you really think Uncle Scrooge will agree to help me? He has become more stingy than I remembered, besides..." What was _stingy_? Penumbra thought, before shaking her head and watching Donald, who had suddenly hunched over and moved slower "I doubt he will, now that _Della's_ back."

Well, now the former captain was confused. In the short time that she had been living with the twins, both seemed to have enough appreciation, looking like a great team and only one duck at the same time, intelligence and strength alike (maybe it was the 'twins thing' that Della hasn't stopped chattering since they entered the mansion together); nevertheless, he had spoken with such disdain his sister's name, and his touch while doing the dishes had become more aggressive that still surprised her that it did not show signs of a crack.

"What do you mean?" She snapped when Donald continued to growl under his breath, before stamping the container against the counter, creaking when an extensive crack appeared on its surface.

"She was always Scrooge's favorite, everything she wanted was given to her instantly, many of those things even behind my back." The image of the Spear of Selene landing shook his mind for a few seconds, and he couldn't help to squint, "me? Unless it was a necessity, he hardly spent a penny on me."

The guitar to channel his anger and find a more de-stressing hobby, speech therapies to understand him better. A part of his mind clouded the fact that he and his sister both supported his liking for grunge music, even buying clothes with which he could feel more comfortable with himself; the money imposed by his uncle when he told him about his anger management classes behind Della's back, or how much these therapies helped him have a more intelligible dialect, at least until he stopped attending them after their discussion.

"I'm not really sure..." At what point was she fully understanding Donald? She didn't know, but she appreciated it, she could have a more bearable conversation with him.

"Anyway," he sighed as he turned off the faucet. He dried his hands and laid the dishes in the wringer, "thanks for listening, I suppose. I needed someone to talk to."

"Um…"

What was she supposed to say? 'No problem'? Donald needed... _help_? And she didn't think she could provide it. She tried to think that at least he was more responsible than his sister and washed the dishes, but knowing so abruptly that he carried that way of thinking, and that it did prevent him from sleeping for entire nights, went beyond what she knew. On the Moon, she had had the General to talk about her problems, and Della had had both her and Lunaris, but to know that Donald didn't, and that he also carried that weight because he thought the family wouldn't mind causing a bump on her.

"Is nothing?"

But her mind knew there was something. And she doubted being able to carry that fact.

* * *

When Della woke up in the late-night, she was certainly surprised not to see Penumbra, but the truth was that she couldn't blame her either.

She could understand that all this represented a big change for her, even she had had a hard time getting used to how much everything had changed in the manor and with her family since her first day back on Earth, so she tried to downplay it and go for a glass of water to the kitchen, her dry throat being able to more than her reason diminished by sleep.

However, of all the scenarios she would have expected to see as Scrooge McDuck's niece, certainly Donald and Penumbra on the same stage was not one of them.

Don't misunderstand her, she love her brother; but he was so reluctant to talk to new people and much more to enter into trust, at least so fast.

But this? She didn't know how, or when, or why, but both of them had fallen asleep sitting on the stools of the kitchen island, their heads resting on the furniture and snoring listening. Penumbra had her hand resting on Donald's back in an attempt to hug and they both used their pillow arms, and she couldn't help smiling.

Though it was charming, she didn't want to imagine her uncle's (or worse, Beakley's) reaction when he (she) saw them sleeping there.

"Pss, Penny." She approached them slowly, modulating her voice to be heard. Penumbra was who was closest, and could not help shaking her shoulder slightly. "Penny?"

The Moonlander growled before slightly opening her eyes, blinking until her eyes got used to the glimpse of Della's shadow.

"What are you doing 'ere, hun? Was the bed too soft for you?" Despite the joking tone, she couldn't help looking at the alien with concern as she carved her eyes to withdraw sleep from them.

"No, I wanted to..." from the corner of her eye she saw Donald, sleeping soundly and calmly "walk a little before sleep."

Had she doubted? They didn't know, neither was able to think properly over fatigue.

"And you met Donnie, should I guess?" Despite that, she couldn't help smiling while looking at her twin. "Though it's nice that you want to know each other better, don't look for places so uncomfortable to rest, what would my uncle say about that?"

Despite that, Della laughed, covering her beak so as not to startle the exhausted duck.

"It doesn't seem to bother him," that, and he really needed to sleep. Penumbra couldn't help but look sideways at Donald, who seemed to be in deep sleep despite the awkward position he was in.

Given that, the woman could not help smiling with melancholy, a sad glow in her eyes. _When was the last time she saw her brother that tired, but it was from experiences away from home that he really did not want to explain to date?_

"So it seems..." She leaned gently against Penumbra's arm to feel her hand further ruffling her hair, kissing her cheek quickly before she could complain, "can you help me take this boy to his boat? I may not know Donald as much as I should after so many years, but I know my brother, and I doubt he wakes up so easily."

Surprisingly, Penumbra glimpsed the nostalgia on her roommate's face when she gently patted her twin's back, and though she was still a novice on the subject of feelings, she knew there was something behind Della's gaze.

But maybe she would leave it for another time, she already had enough with a sibling's problems.

"Sure, why not?" She tried to show unconcern, approaching the sailor before the duck could say anything.

But Donald snored unexpectedly, startling Penumbra and Della had to snort so as not to give a laugh that woke the man.

"I told ya," she was smiling amused, and the Moonlander rolled her eyes before carrying the sleepy duck.

It was simple, she had already done it on the Moon and he wasn't heavy. But she didn't remember him being so _light_, he weighed much less than Della when they used to weigh the same!

She literally expected him to weigh more thanks to the weight of gravity!

Penumbra sighed regretfully. It was better for Donald to talk to his family soon or else she would do it, and she wouldn't think she'll have the same touch.


End file.
